As
soon as we reached home and the pleasantries were done with, Sam Uncle went
into my grandfather’s study and called his home.
I
hung around the sitting room windows, while the ladies stood at the doorways.
Soon enough I heard the steady ringing of a bicycle bell and then saw the lanky
raggedy figure on it careening at top speed into our gate. I held my breath. He
was able to brake just before he hit the gate’s grills. He hopped off, wheeled the
ancient bicycle inside the compound and shouted.
“Mol, come out!”
“Appa,
I’m going to meet Jimmy.”
There was sudden silence in the room. Jimmy, aka Chacko, was Paul Mathew’s (FC95) younger brother. I was always nervous meeting him because my family felt there was something going on between us because he was a boy. There wasn’t. But I got all the crazy looks. We had been good friends as children and Anjali and I hung around with Jimmy and his friends at recess in school. Plus we both didn’t care for his cousin Nidhi. We had the same friends, and almost the same enemies – Jimmy didn’t waste time hating anyone. Roma and Jimmy never saw eye to eye and she was annoyed whenever I preferred him to her.
I
waited for Appa’s reluctant nod but kept moving to the main door. There was
shock on Roma’s face and growing anger.
But
Jimmy, a pet name he coined for himself as a child, was already at the door, dirt stains on his orange t-shirt and beige pants,
a dark smudge on his pink face and a big smile for everyone. He marched in
shook hands with all the elders, cracked a joke, and then grabbed my elbow.
“Mol
is going to show me Kunjappachan’s animals… next door. We’ll be right back.”
“Can
I come?” Rita demanded, blocking our way, and backed by some of the smaller
kids.
“Say
no, Jimmy,” I murmured.
“Sure,
but I’m going to look for the snake that is behind the cowshed, where the
manure is piled. You will have to dig holes in it with me. Are you okay with
that… walking in it and carting the manure away?”
There
were loud sounds of disgust from the children, and chuckles from the adults.
The kids couldn’t back away fast enough. Only Rita looked suspicious and held her ground.
“Get
the koondali (hoe),”
Jimmy told her. She ran towards the kitchen to get to the shed outside, where
we stored the farming tools. “Get two, Rita, and meet us at
Kunjappachan’s cowshed,” Jimmy shouted at her back. He pulled my
hand and we rushed down the steps of the house. He picked up his bicycle, and
sat on it. I opened the gate and closed it after him, and sat sidesaddle on the
back seat and we waved at the crowd at the windows. It was amazing how
suspicious young people were too – my cousins were at the windows watching us.
Jimmy
cycled at a furious pace, and past Kunjappachan’s place. He stopped at the side
of the road further along. “Are you comfortable sitting like that?”
“Of
course not.” I got off and sat astride.
“You
remember the last time I took you on my bike? Dad gave me a lecture about
love and arranged marriages. I tried not to yawn,” Jimmy said.
“I
may keep getting the lectures for some time this vacation. I’ve got to tell you
loads of stuff – a lot has happened this last month and a half. By the way, you
holding my hand will tip them off balance.”
Jimmy
laughed. “Do they really think we’re going to get married? I’m only 15. I have
at least 15 or 20 years more to go.”
“Where
are you taking me?”
“I’ve
something to show.”
“What
is it?”
“Secret.
Wait for it.”
We
cycled past lush paddy fields, the light glinting off the water in places,
narrowly missed the speeding autorickshaws and tumbled into a ditch.
“Sorry,
sorry. Are you hurt?” Jimmy asked after he pulled me up with some difficulty. I
checked my dress to see if it was torn. I had heard a rip, but probably imagined
it. But my left side was stained with mud from our fall. Jimmy tried to pry off
the wet mud with a dried leaf. “Sorry, mol. I don’t know how we’re going
to explain this,” he pointed at my clothes.
“We
can tell them the truth.”
“They’ll
stop you from coming out with me.” There was genuine regret on Jimmy’s face.
“I
can have a wash before I go home. Tidy up my clothes.”
“Ya.
Good idea. Come on.” We got on the bike, which was in cyclable shape, and sped
on. I soon realised we were going to Jimmy’s grandparents’ house. I usually
visited them with my parents towards the end of our vacations. But Appa visited
them often.
As
soon as we rode in through the open gate, both of us jumped off the bicycle, and
Jimmy leaned it against the side of the house and showed me where the tap was.
Most Kerala houses have at least three or four taps outside the house, mostly
near the entrances.
He watched while I sluiced water over my left side, and tried to rinse away the drying stains. He brought me a grungy turkey towel to dry myself. Then he took me to his room and told me to take off my
skirt, which he’d iron in another room. We closed the windows to thwart voyeurs
and I handed him my skirt through the door. He returned in five minutes. Some
of the stains still showed but the skirt was dry.
“Hold
out your blouse and I’ll iron out the wet patches,” Jimmy said.
“You’ll
burn me!”
“Let’s
give it a shot.”
So I
stood still, and stretched out my blouse while he tried to iron it suspended in
the air. It was quite useless and so he gave up.
I
knew he was an ace at ironing because his sister Marina had made him iron her
clothes, until he managed to burn a nice dress. When I got to know I asked him if he
had done it on purpose and he didn't answer. I didn’t know what it to make of it.
He
took me to the storeroom, which was at the back of the house, and switched on
the zero-watt light bulb. “Be quiet,” he whispered.
While
my eyes got accustomed to the dark room, I heard squeaks. It came from
the basket in the corner. He lifted the conical lid of the basket and a hen
twisted her head this way and that to look at us. She allowed Jimmy to lift her
and he kept her tucked under his arm, gently caressing the top of her head and
murmuring to her.
“Can
you hear the noise?” he asked.
“Yes.
But what is it?” I couldn’t see any chicks – only eggs in the basket.
“The
sounds are from the eggs. They are about to hatch.”
“That’s
crazy. Are you sure?”
“Look
here.” A portion of the egg was broken and a large hole had developed in the
shell. “Can you see the chick moving?”
I
looked in awe. I had never seen a chick hatch out of an egg. Jimmy put the hen
down and slowly lowered the conical lid on her. He lifted the egg and peeled
away a small bit of the shell from near the hole. We could see the chick trembling
inside. It wasn’t fear, it was just the way new life happened.
The
wooden doors behind us opened and Jimmy’s grandmother Kunjumaria Ammachi came
in and watched us. After a few minutes, she told us to leave the eggs be.
Jimmy placed the hen back on its to-be family and latched the storeroom’s doors.
Ammachi
put her arms around us and listened to our chatter while we walked through the
dark rooms to the kitchen. She served us tea and jackfruit chips and halwa,
asked us questions, and seemed keenly interested in the family’s reactions to
Rebecca and Roy’s marriage (FC92, FC93). Jimmy and I sat next to each other
on the long wooden bench in the kitchen and sipped our tea.
When
the phone rang, Jimmy said to his grandmother, “It will be for us.” He answered
the phone and said yes three or four times. “Ammachi, I have to take mol back.
Is it ok if I eat lunch there?”
A
dimple showed in Ammachi’s cheek when she smiled. She nodded her head and held
out an arm. We bent our heads to her lips for a kiss and I could smell the
clean smell of a fresh cotton sari.
This
time we cycled slowly taking in the sights of the village and when we reached Kunjappachan’s house Jimmy rode in,
circled the front courtyard, rode behind the cowshed and stopped there. We
waved at the aunt watching us suspiciously through the kitchen window.
“What’s
going on, Jimmy?” I asked, eyeing the knee-high pile of stinking manure.
“We’ll
need to say we were at Kunjappachan’s house.” He turned to face me. “We’ll come back of course, I want to see the animals here. You’ll also
need to sit ladylike.” This I had forgotten. So I hopped off and walked to the
front of the house. In a minute, Jimmy was with me and I sat sidesaddle behind him. We
had to keep up appearances, there’d be any number of hawks at the windows
waiting for us to re-appear.
In
the end, our lone hawk turned out to be Rita – who was furious at us for not waiting
for her. She claimed she had dug herself a hole in the cow dung behind the
cowshed.
“Who
told you to do that!” Jimmy said aiming to look shocked, although one side of
his mouth twitched. Chuckles sounded behind us.
“You
said there was a snake there!”
“But
snakes are dangerous. You should have let me come and take care of it.”
That
stumped Rita… but just for a few seconds. “But you weren’t there. I waited and
waited and waited!” her voice shrill.
“Are
you sure you went to the right place? I was there and didn’t see the hole… Do
you think the snake filled it up? And normally you’d stink the place up if you
were mucking about with manure.”
Roma
stepped forward her arms akimbo. “Where were the two of you? You said you’d be
next door but weren’t.”
“You
were there with Rita?” Jimmy asked.
“No.”
“So
basically you don’t know.”
Roma’s
mouth flapped a bit, not knowing what hit her. Jimmy turned to Rita, “The truth
is mol and I waited for you, but you took too long to show up. So I took her
home to show her a hatching egg. I’m sorry, I had no patience. But if you like,
we can go now and look for the snake. The snake may have gone off by now, but
there may be some large worms.”
“Jimmy…”
Sam Uncle said, shaking his head but his eyes dancing and his lips closed
tightly – probably trying to rein in a laugh. My eyes darted to Paul and there
was a cool look in them, no sign of a smile. I never had a chance with him
anyway. Life was for living, and I’d rather do it looking at eggs hatching and
falling in ditches with his cooler brother.
“I
would have liked to look at the eggs too,” Rita said throwing a cold look at me. I suddenly realised I wanted Rita on my side… always.
“Yes,
Jimmy, all of us would have,” Sarah said, leaning against the doorjamb of the
dining room, smiling mischievously at Jimmy who looked away and blushed.
“Next
time then,” he muttered.
Rita and Roma glared at Jimmy but he sat on the arm of the sofa his father was seated on. When he pointed at the stool next to him, I felt a hand pull my blouse from the back and I was hauled into the dining room. Amma ordered me to set the table for the guests, and Rita and Roma soon followed me.
*****
The
narrator is spending the summer vacation with her grandparents in Kerala and an
old friend drops by for a visit and serves up some intrigue.
*****
#younglove
#jimmy #love #youngadult #fiction #keralastories #keralavillage #kerala
#animalstories #eggs #hens #snake #worms #cowdung #cow #cowshed #ditch #bicycle
#youngboy #younggirl #teenager #teenageescapades #teenagestories
#fishychronicles #tea #websweweaveseries #websweweave #bombaymalayalis
#syrianchristianmalayalis #syrianchristians #bestfriends #friends #hawk
#sidesaddle #sari #freshsmell #rita #keepingupappearances #rebecca #roy #marriage #rita #roma #cousins #family #school #recess
*****
